


Crunch

by SweatingHerLadyBollocksOff



Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Granddad!Malc, Gratuitous Fluffy Feelings, Not Even That Much Snow Content Considering, Snow Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:49:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28955997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweatingHerLadyBollocksOff/pseuds/SweatingHerLadyBollocksOff
Summary: It snows. There's soft fluffy vibes.
Relationships: Nicola Murray/Malcolm Tucker
Kudos: 18





	Crunch

**Author's Note:**

> Written in honour of the Snow Day today in the UK. Not even that much snow content in this as I started rambling on about other things but hope you enjoy anyway.

‘Malcolm. Malcolm. _Malcolm_.’ He’s fast asleep, completely oblivious to the continuing world around him, and she desperately doesn’t want to disturb him. But she knows he wouldn’t miss this for the world. ‘Malc’ she tries instead, leaning over to press a row of soft, tickly kisses to his neck just above the duvet that he’s got pulled close over his shoulders. He snuffles, wriggles a little, and slowly opens his eyes, looking a little confused to see her leaning against the windowsill next to his side of the bed. ‘S’early, Nic’ he protests, making her smile. ‘It’s snowed.’ Those two words are all he needs to hear, he’s immediately sitting upright, clutching the duvet around his chest like a startled starlet in one of those rom-coms he pretends to hate and she pretends to like. It makes her giggle, the way he clutches the Ikea duvet cover to his chest like he’s protecting the modesty of his imaginary tits, and he looks at her curiously for a moment before breaking out into a grin. ‘Fuckin mad’ he teases lovingly, leaning up for a kiss which she gives him without hesitation. ‘C’mon then, get some clothes on. We’ve got about – ‘ she checks her watch, a delicate little rose gold Olivia Burton one she’d wanted for ages before he caught on and got it for her this Christmas just gone - ‘about five minutes before one of the kids wakes up and all hell breaks loose.’ It’s a bit of hyperbole, since she knows for a fact Katie is already up. They’d bumped into each other in the kitchen at about six, Katie making up a bottle for George, and Nic in search of a glass of water to ease off the worst of her hot flush. It had been a gorgeous little moment, watching the first of the flakes come down with her daughter and her sleepy, chubby, hungry grandson, but she’d decided to let it settle properly before poking the beast that is Malcolm in the mornings. ‘Is babbie awake?’ is the first real question she gets out of him, once he’s brushed his teeth and chucked some jeans on, searching through the wardrobe for a jumper that’s warm enough but that he won’t mind if it gets soaked with snowballs. ‘Yeah, think so. Had his breakfast, so probably still awake, although miracles do happen’ she smiles, putting some hand-cream on her tired winter-worn hands. The soft almond milk and honey scent seems to draw his attention, and he chucks on an old dark green fisherman knit jumper before coming over to her side of the bed. ‘Love ye’ he mumbles, kissing her lips softly and finding her hand, running her thumb over her wedding ring. Even after all this time, he still finds it a little unbelievable. Some days she does too, for a wide variety of reasons. ‘Go and get your boy, then’ she smiles, and he beams and heads off in search of George. They’re partners in crime, despite George only being six months old, he’s constantly attached to Malcolm’s lap or his chest, his strong arms in the middle of the night. More than once she’s woken up to find the baby unexpectedly in their bed. At least it gives Katie a break, which she absolutely deserves. She’s a natural mother, still all glowy and barefooted and excitable, filled with an innate confidence that Nicola never possessed and which she knows they both have Malcolm to thank for. He’d go to the ends of the earth for any of her kids, but particularly so for Katie since she announced she was expecting. Tiger Granddad, she calls him, and earns herself a fond smile each time. He’s even got a mug with it on.

She’s made it downstairs and put some coffee and some bacon on before the kids proper arrive, not that any of them are really little anymore. She took the last of the primary school timetables down off the notice board nearly five months ago now, and it’s been replaced with a complex schedule of after-school clubs, coding, ballet, performing arts, Chinese, baking, women’s rugby. She can hardly keep up with them, let alone with the latest new addition to the brood, and the added complexity of Katie not yet having a driving licence. Good job she has someone to share taxi duties with. Ella appears first, already dressed in an improbably tight brown suede skirt that Nic just _knows_ she had to lie down and suck in to zip up, and a beautifully soft cream jumper, a stark contrast against her long dark plaits. ‘Morning, El’ she smiles, deciding not to comment on the skirt. She looks bloody great. Though she’ll be freezing as soon as she leaves the house, but that’s really the price of youthful elegance. ‘Morning’ is all she gets back, but it’s light and cheery enough. ‘How’s Bethany?’ she asks, fishing for a little gossip while they’re still alone, but the look Ella shoots her from inside the fridge tells her it’s still embarrassing for her mum to be asking about her girlfriend. Shame. She’s desperate to meet her, though they’ll probably scare the poor girl off, the whole seven strong brood of them. Rosie and Ben appear as a pair, as always, in hardwearing kid jeans (it always makes her smile, kids in jeans) and matching personalised ‘Fortnite legend’ jumpers that they got for Christmas. It’s a slight battle to get them all sat down around the table with toast and juice (‘from a cup, Ben, not the bottle’), considering how excited they are, but she gets there with Ella’s help. Ella herself just has a coffee, with four sugars, since she’s not quite old enough to actually like coffee yet, but she picks a little at a muffin Nicola slides towards her. They’re not breakfast people, Ella and Nicola, they take a while to get going in the mornings. There’s voices in the hallway, or two voices and a little excitable gurgle, and she looks up and smiles at the sight of them. Katie looks stunning, all long wavy highlighted hair and a bright rainbow motif jumper and what Nicola now knows are called Mum Jeans, perching George on her hip. Malcolm makes porridge for himself and Katie, and Nic smiles softly into her coffee at the fact that her eldest has him wrapped around her little finger quite so tightly. Breakfast to be eaten means she gets to hold the baby, though, which is no hardship. He’s ever so cute, all bright pink cheeks and elbow rolls in a sweet ‘Mummy’s Little Monster’ onesie.

Breakfast done, they bundle into coats, gloves (‘scarf, Ben, _please_ ’) and relatively sensible shoes before heading out into the snow. It’s a little busy out with other families doing the same, but Nic manages not to fret or worry about Ben and Rosie absolutely pelting each other with snowballs. Once they reach the nearby park, it thins out a bit thankfully, and the other families disappear into the distance. She settles against the sheltered trunk of a massive oak with Malcolm and George (of course), and watches the kids. Ella is taking photos of anything and everything, and she just knows they’ll be stunning and unusual and hopefully end up making it into her sixth form project. It’d be easier to talk about with the other mums than her previous 100 Vaginas project, anyhow. Katie is chasing after the little ones, armed with a snowball in each hand, and Malcolm laughs and reaches for Nic’s hand with his free one that isn’t holding George close against his hip. ‘He looks like the Michelin man’ she laughs, turning to look at them and grinning at George all bundled up in his massive warm coat/bodysuit contraption. ‘Buh’ George proclaims, and she thinks he’s probably right. 


End file.
